Satisfied Mind
by Emeraldegg
Summary: FlippyxEvilFlippy. A not-so-simple love story. Edit: I renamed it. Old name was rushed anyway. One thing's for certain, when it comes my time I'll leave this old world with a satisfied mind
1. Chapter 1

_**WARNING: BLOODY. **_

_**NOTE: I will refer to Evil Flippy only as Evil Flippy, but I will refer to Good Flippy as, Good Flippy, and just Flippy.**_

_**While I know this is, for awhile, not going to seem very much like a romance story, it will get there. This isn't a oneshot, so don't expect quick satisfaction. :) Enjoy!**_

Evil Flippy:

Flippy might not think about where exactly his evil countepart's conciousness went when he 'flipped' back, but regardless of whatever he might believe, Evil Flippy was by no means gone when Flippy was in control. In fact, he was constantly alert, at any point that the hard earned self-control that Flippy had slipped, even slightly, giving Evil Flippy a chance to take over, and transform his environment mentally so that he was in the perfect state to kill.

If Flippy would have really given it thought, he would have realized that Evil Flippy's mental existence went the same place Good Flippy's went - into a dark corner of the conciousness, where one could only feel and see and think, experiencing everything second hand, but unable to interfere, until the control slipped. Evil Flippy's control was not carefully cultivated and firm in it's roots, unlike Good Flippy's was, because Evil Flippy had no patience. Therefore, Evil Flippy was far easier to be thrown out of power. It was a constant internal battle, a warfare, and mainly, Good Flippy was winning. But Evil Flippy won all the important battles, because every time he won, countless others died. When Good Flippy was winning, he had to spend most of the time concentrating on staying in control.

But when Good Flippy wasn't in control, all he did was watch in horror as his friends were slaughtered by the very hand he used to feed himself, his own hand commiting such terrifying when Evil Flippy was forced back into that little cranny of their mind, he was not paying attention to the petty seeming life that Flippy led. He was thinking, and planning... and remembering. Remembering everything. Good Flippy's mind had set up a nice, neat little mental block over everthing that had happened during the war. But Evil Flippy had no such luxury.

During the war, he was just the manifestation of Good Flippy's pure, animal killing instinct. He would have faded away, if it weren't for the fact that Good Flippy refused to remember anything about the war or deal with any of it. And those memories had to go somewhere. If Evil Flippy hadn'nt been in the wrong place at the wrong time, those memories would have eventually bombarded Good Flippy, and he would have been forced to deal with them. It would have ended there. But instead, they bombarded Evil Flippy, who had no real logical reasoning skills, only killing instinct and raw emotions. So while Flippy had been relaxing, and rebuilding his home life after the war, Evil Flippy was slowly being driven insane, by pictures, memories, and all the horrors of the bloodshed and death he had witnessed, participated in, and sometimes solely caused.

At heart, Evil Flippy never stopped living in those moments, curled into a ball in the bloody carcass of a large friend, ripping out the throat of an enemy with his bare claws, basking in the bright red splatters across his chest, the ground, and his enemies' bodies. But someone's mind had to pay for seeing and causing such things, and Evil Flippy, the brainless slaughtermachine had been driven as batshit crazy as was possible.

But he had figured some things out. He realized that Good Flippy had done it to him. He didn't know how, or why, but something in him was setting the blame on Good Flippy. And the target was his own body. But he had yet to kill Good Flippy, and not because he was unable to. Good Flippy was weak the one time Evil Flippy had gone about the exhausting task of seperating his conciousness from Good Flippy into another body, and fought good Flippy. He was by all means planning to kill Good Flippy, but something made him stop. He held back. He still did not understand why. He viciously vowed to not hold back the next time, and was frustrated when he did not believe himself. Why did I stop? He is the source of my problems, isn't he? He did not know why.

Good Flippy:

Flippy and Evil Flippy's thoughts were the only thing truly seperated. They never heard the others thoughts. In fact, Flippy was under the vague notion that Evil Flippy had no thoughts. He constantly thought about the day Evil Flippy had actually appeared before him. He noticed the constricted pupils and green, pale irises before he was tackled to the ground, completely caught off gaurd. He knew that Evil Flippy could have killed him. When he fell into Evil Flippy's trap, Evil Flippy could have snaped his neck while he was unconcious and that would have been the end. But he hadn't. He had wanted to play with him a bit. But he would have eventually killed him, right? He had to have been planning on it!

Eventually... But why, in the first place, would Evil Flippy kept him alive? Flippy's thoughts ran in circles. He closed his eyes, laying on his bed, and a picture of those green eyes, bright with hate, hurt, mishief, insanity, and utter rage came unbidden into his head, then Evil Flippy's whole head, running down to a strong, thick neck, shoulders, chest thick with ropy, tight muscles... Goosebumps ran up Flippy's fur coated arms and Flippy quickly opened his eyes. A bead of sweat ran down his cheek. He shook his head fervently, and ran to the bathroom to take a very, very cold shower.

Evil Flippy:

But he had stopped himself from killing Flippy. Some part of him was intrigued with this little green soldier, so innocent and untouchable. It turned on something in Evil Flippy ( No pun intended) and was a very different kind of excitment than that of when he was killing. He was curious about it, so he decided to postpone his seemingly inevitable murder of Good Flippy. But he did not want to remember this. So he continued to be confused and angry.

Good Flippy:

Good Flippy came back to his room after the shower, feeling sobered and a bit cooled off. He calmly passed off the heat that had passed through him when he though of Evil Flippy as a low fever. Certainly that was all. He remembered that he had a low fever when he first saw Evil Flippy and was tackled forcefully to the ground by him, being straddled by those strong, muscular legs.... This fever was recurring, and beginning to worry him. So he decided to go to bed, turn out the lights... And after the lights were out, he wasn't held responsible for anything he might do... In the dark, all logic and reasoning was kaput, the real world postponed until the first lazy streams of light penetrated the blinds...

Evil Flippy:

The current host of the shared body was asleep. While Good Flippy did not know it, This was the perfect time to take over. Evil Flippy rarely did this, taking over during the night, because Good Flippy would become wise to it, and this was one of the secret weapons that Evil Flippy was storing away for the big day when he would kill Good Flippy. But tonight was an exception. He quietly forced his conciousness forward, bursting into power like waking from a particularly intense dream. He stretched his fingers and toes first, then began to mechanically check his arms, legs, head, and noticed that his manhood was throbbing forcefully. He vaguely wondered what Good Flippy had been doing, or thinking about, before he wen to sleep. He shrugged and stood up, smiling at the feel of moving on his own. Good Flippy's conciousness had never been disturbed, he was still sleeping, just in a different part of the mind.

This was going to be the beginning of his new idea - mental torture. He was going to abuse Flippy psychologically. He stalked out the front door with his trusty bowie knife and hand grenades, and snuck over to his neighbors house, Lumpy.

He went to a window, and pulled off his shirt. He wrapped his hand in it, and quietly broke the window. He climbed through, not noticing the painful lacerations his body now boasted from brokedn glass. he climbed in the window and dropped to the floor. He listened very, very closely. He heard a very light shuffling down the hall. He hid behind a chair. Lumpy came out, arms held out, eyes Flippy recognized that he was sleep walking. he crept up from behind, put the knife in his left hand, and grabbed Lumpy. One hand held a knife to his neck, the other muffled his mouth. A the same time he grabbed him, with two deft kicks, he broke both of Lumpy's legs at the patella and badly fractured the femur, in other words, the kneecap and thigh bones. With a snap of his own elbows he dislocated one of Lumpy's shoulders, and broke his arms. While Lumpy was distracted, Evil Flippy quickly cut his own hand deftly, instantly waking up Flippy with a bright surge of pain. Flippy had only seconds to take in the shocking scene. Lumpy was a bloody, disfigured mess, but not dead yet. Evil Flippy suddenly punched lumpy, hard in the back of the head, and Lumpy was temporarily incapacitated. Looking down at him, grinning, Evil Flippy licked the blade clean, put it on his utility belt, and hauled lumpy over his shoulders.

Lumpy woke up later, groggy and in excruciating pain, and found himself totally bound to a bed. Every arm and leg was attatched to a different bedpole. he looked up and saw Evil Flippy standing over him, smiling. There was a knife in his hand. He walked over, and began to undo Lumpy's pants. Lumpy would have screamed, but his mouth was gagged. Evil Flippy finally pulled out Lumpy's manhood. He put the knife to the side. Tears of fear were coming down out of Lumpy's eyes. Sqrthshhhhh!! And Lumpy was castrated. He screamed and thrashed against his Flippy suddenly looked annoyed and put the blade so close to lumpy's throat he had to lean his head into the mattress to avoid being killed. Evil Flippy meant business. Satisifed, Evil Flippy smirked and brought the knife up to the side of Lumpy's face, and pressed it softly against his ear. Flippy was still watching in horror, unable to begin to try to take over. Sqrt, sqrt! Both ears were gone. Flippy turned around, and stared right into the mirror at his own eyes. Straight into Flippy's eyes.

Evil Flippy grinned, covered in blood, so much blood, more blood than Flippy felt he had ever seen, and Evil Flippy licked his blade clean again, and put his fingers on the blood caked mirror, and spelled out, clearing blood out of the path of his fingers, " You next, baby!" Turned back around, and did a jumping plunge of the knife through Lumpy's stomach. Blood squirted out onto Evil Flippy's face and dripped into his mouth and eyes. Lumpy's guts, so tight and wound up and firmly set, began to unwind wildly and come out of his stomach, as if there was not enough room for all his intestines inside him. But he was not dead. Evil Flippy ran over to the windows and locked them shut, moved a giant piece of furniture in front of the door, and picked up Lumpy, still alive, and set him next to the window. Then he obeiently surrendered power to Flippy.

Good Flippy:

He stared at the wreckage before him. His legs buckled, and he fell to his knees, as tears of horror and stress came to his eyes. he was covered with pieces of Lumpy noone had ever seen before. because they had always been on the inside. His own blood was also spilled, from a long gash, currently throbbing away, that ran up the length of his arms. He didn't feel it. He was forced to leave through the locked window, where he had to step over Lumpy.A bloody hand shot up and grabbed his leg, and he looked down. A face barely recognizable with blood gazed up at him, in a kind of dying stupor, and tried to mumble something but began to choke and cough on blood, and vomited once on Flippy. Then Lumpy lay back, jerked once, and died. Flippy almost fainted then, but pulled on, breaking the window and taking even more lacerations to his bare body, along with the ones from the previous window and the gash from his knife. Which was still on his utility belt. He shivered convulsively, and trudged home, thinking to wash vigorously and go to bed.

Bed!? He started suddenly. Was he insane? Go to bed after that, after he had seen what Evil Flippy was capable of? Fat chance. He wasn't letting another friend die because of Evil Flippy. He supposed he would just stay awake. Forever.

...

...

...

Maybe he should just take the knife to his own stomach.

Evil Flippy:

It was all starting to come together. Flippy had sworn off sleep. Evil Flippy knew he was tough - he could last a few days. But he couldn't last forever. And if he could, he couldn't keep control forever. Now to just plan his trap, and wait, wait for an opening. The right opening.

_**I told you, first chapter, not exactly lemony. But I bet you could see where I am going, at least partly, you could already see that they have peaked the other's interest. ;) Cold shower? Eh? Eh? Oh yeah, you get it, you dog you! XDXD**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Hey! I'm back with more action packed shit than you can SHAKE A TREE AT! Or something. ... .... Oh, just read it already!!**_

_**Note: For those of you lemon crazy fans, there is lemon coming, so keep your pants on, but it may be a few chapters.**_

_**Another note: For those that didn't understand the cold shower joke last chapter, when a man gets turned on and certain things start poking up that he might not necessarily want poking up, a cold shower is the quickest and most effective way to, eh emm, turn himself off. ;)**_

Evil Flippy:

It was four two since his counterpart had sworn off sleep. He was intently, constantly watching Flippy's actions, feeling that exhaustion but forcing himself to make the difference between his own energy and Flippy's energy.

Flippy was beginning to crack. Just very slightly. Colors blurred and dimmed, then brightened cruelly to Flippy's sleep deprived eyes. Evil Flippy could tell this would be a gruelling struggle, and that it would not end with himself flipping easily into final power and neatly disposing of Flippy. It would be a deathmatch, and no matter how bone weary Flippy might be, he would not hold back. Evil Flippy secretly thrilled in anticipation of what would probably be his last actually well-matched battle. He would be waiting anxiously, waiting, waiting, for the final fight.

Good Flippy:

Flippy stumbled in the door at his home. He had locked the bedroom securely because he did not quite trust himself. The days were getting longer, but the nights were neverending. He could scarcely believe it had only been a few days. It felt like weeks. He knew of sleep deprivation, had been trained to handle it in boot camp, but that was a long time ago, and they never went more than three days in the war. Plus, it was a different situation, or so he thought. He had been under constant pressure to stay alive, filled over the brim with adrenaline and nervous energy. His life had been constantly in danger. He had no idea that it still was.

He stumbled in the door, kicked it closed, and then turned around and flopped on his back on the ground, staring at the ceiling, in a kind of detatched despair, vague but persistant, the feeling that he was losing at something, something important. He stared idly at the ceiling for a few minutes, sighed, and tried to drag to his feet, and his body did something that scared him immensley. It did not respond, for a moment, ignoring him. He tried harder the next time, to hard, and shot up so quickly that he lost his balance, feeling dizzy, and fell back to the ground, twisting his leg hard under his falling weight. He was far to tired to be angry, so a kind of helpless misery set in, and he just sat with his forehead leaned on the wall, and fought tears.

He began to think about what had happened, then , for the first time. Evil Flippy had taken control without even waking Flippy. He had woken him on purpose, later, but how many times did Evil Flippy take control while Flippy slept, none the wiser? That was a disturbing thought, one he could do nothing about, so he ignored it and continued thinking. He remembered Evil Flippy suddenly turning to the mirror, eyes boring into Flippy's. Flippy had been unable to look away. There was something else different about Flippy's body when Evil Flippy took over. The way Evil Flippy carried himself, he may as well have been a different person entirely. He was a ball of raw masculinity, and Flippy had gotten a good look at that because Evil Flippy was naked as the day he was born, except for the hat, because he used his army jacket to brake the window and had then left it, forgotten. Flippy hadn't gone back to get it. He knew there was none of Lumpy's blood on it, just his own, but he knew what he would have to face if he went over there. The air was tainted with the stench of death, of decaying matter.

He didn't realize it, but as he was so deep in thought, his eyes had gently closed, and he was breathing deep and even. Evil Flippy was so intent on watching right then and his nerves so tightly wound they were close to busting. Flippy's thoughts were drifting slower and slower into his mind, becoming less and less important, as they readied to stop entirely. Hehehehe.. Flippy's eyes snapped open. He swore he heard very malicious laughter, and then realized he had nearly fallen asleep! he jumped up, ran to the sink, feeling much faster than he was actually going, and splashed cold water on his face to wake himself up. He was relieved to find that he had total use of his body. He sighed and turned on his television to watch.

Evil Flippy:

Haha! He had done it! It only took a second of Flppy's concentration to slip for Evil Flippy to do it, too. last time it took longer. He could hardly contain his excitement as he prepared the trap for Flippy... on his own two feet. While Flippy sat mindlessly trying to stay awake in the living room, Evil Flippy was in the bathroom. He had managed to seperate himself. This time he would get him, this time.... This time...

_**Dum dum DUUUUUMM!! O my! What ever will Flippy do? Find out next time!**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Last chapter.**_

_**"All young lovers know why  
Nightmares blind their mind's eye.**_

_**  
Your rube is young and handsome,  
So new to your bedroom floor,  
You know damn well where you'll go."**_

- _**Jeff Buckley**_

__Good Flippy:

It was now day five, and Flippy was unable to walk in a straight line. He was forgetting things, like he would go to the store, be halfway there, stop to tie his shoe, and think he was coming back from the store, go home, and realize he was still out of milk. But mostly, he was very depressed. Evil Flippy was constantly watching and keeping him under close surveillance, and even Evil Flippy noticed that there was something different about Flippy's usual good natured cheer. It was replaced with a bitter, miserable, depressing slump. Flippy didn't want to do anything, go anywhere, say anything, see anyone.... He just wanted to sit and stare at the tv, trying to keep his mind off of sleep, and his lack of it.

Evil Flippy:

Of course, Flippy had no idea that his sleep strike was utterly pointless - Evil Flippy, you remember, had seperated himself. So Flippy continued to torture his body and mind with exhaustion, for no reason, and Evil Flippy began to feel the closest thing he had ever felt to remorse, and pity. Of course he did not really understand feeling of regret or remorse, so he stopped thinking about it. He was reduced to skulking around the house in shadows, hiding from Flippy in plain sight. Whenever he got fairly close to Flippy, Evil Flippy would feel the weariness radiating from Flippy, and would quicken his pace. He heard Flippy murmuring to himself sometimes, and often heard his own name, snatches of intense conversations with noone, epiphonies of realization that made no sense. His body was not the only thing that was beginning to fail.

Evil Flippy was hiding in a fake tree in Flippy's living room once, when Flippy suddenly turned to the counters and began a rain of knives on them, throwing them one by one, producing them from various hiding places, strategically hidden so that he would always have a weapon nearby if need be. He screamed, slightly slurring, " I know you're there!" Then all at once he stopped, seemed to gather himself, and went over and calmly garnered his supply of knives and replaced them in their spots, and went back to his chair, near the tv, and began to cry. Evil Flippy had gone dead white when he started throwing the knives. If he had indeed been hiding near the counters, Flippy would have won. For the time being, anyway. He probably wouldn't realize he had won, and would continue to deprive himself of sleep until he went totally insane and probably killed himself. Evil Flippy found that, oddly, he did not enjoy this whole charade nearly as much as he had before, or as much as he had thought he would. Once again, that inexplicable feeling rose up in his stomach like bile - Guilt.

Good Flippy:

Flippy was almost at the edge. Evil Flippy didn't realize it, but killing Flippy was not necessary - there need not be any final fight. If Flippy went on like this, he would die. Just simply die, curl up and kick the bucket, bite the dust, push up daisies, and die. Flippy only vaguely knew this. But he still knew it. So he decided it was time to face his evil countepart. He got up, and headed to the backyard, where he thought they would have more room.

Evil Flippy:

Meanwhile, Evil Flippy was on the roof, thinking long and hard about what he really wanted. At first, he thought of course it was to end Flippy. To take the final hold of their body, mind, life. To win. But then he remembered that little bit of regret, that guilt that was so foul tasting, that shiver of excitment when he thought of Flippy - No, he told himself, of fighting Flippy. That had to be it. Because otherwise, that excitment wouldn't make sense. Right? He flopped on his back from where he was pacing back and forth, tired of this confusion. Unless, maybe.... No, it couldn't be. Could it? Could it be that the very sight of Flippy, just that, the very thought of him, was what excited him? Gave him the shiver of anticipation? Could he be... attracted to him? He thought of Flippy's innocent, sweet smile, friendly, good natured laugh, high pitched voice, amicable, cute salute. Could it be? Yes it could. Was it? He was starting to realize it was. And he was realizing what a huge, mind blowingly large mistake he had made. He heard some tiny sounds, amplified by his well trained ears, and knew Flippy was coming outside. he quickly ducked and rolled to the edge of the roof, where he could watch without being noticed.

Flippy:

He marched outside, pale, thin, gaunt, and looking exhausted. He hollored, " Come on out, Evil Flippy! I know you can, you did it once before! Come out of me, so we can fight again!" He raised his fists weakly, wavering on his feet.

Evil Flippy:

Evil Flippy watched in wonder (And slight pity) at the person he thought his worst enemy. He had to try to fix this, maybe there was time. He jumped down to greet the wobbling, drunk looking man before him.

Both:

Flippy stared for a moment, taking in the utter, masculine sexuality of his opponent. Muscles laced over his arms and chest, noticable but not overpowering, the ropy, tight muscles of a street rat, muscles right for being quick, small, and efficient. There was no mischeif in his eyes, Flippy noticed, only worry, and concern. That didn't sound like the evil murderer that Flippy remembered. But then, images of Lumpy, bloody and mutilated, Petunia, face burned from a greasy frier, Cuddles, face ripped to shreds by a large rock, all flew threw Flippy's mind, cruelly shaming Flippy for his moment of weakness, and he rushed Evil Flippy, which, under other circumstances, would have been his own funeral.

But instead, Evil Flippy cried, " Hey! Wait!" He jumped deftly out of the way. Flippy rushed him again. This time, Evil Flippy grabbed his arms firmly Flippy's lesser strength, mixed with his lack of stamina, sleep deprivation, and weight loss due to that deprivation, Flippy was powerless to Evil Flippy. Evil Flippy caught and held Flppy's eyes, and Flippy stopped struggling, suddenly paralyzed. Evil Flippy had no idea how to convey his revelation, wasn't even quite sure of all the ramifications of that sudden epiphony himself, but he had to try to get at least one message across - he didn't want to fight. He didn't want Flippy to torture himself anymore. maybe they could become friendly... Something dark inside him wanted much more than that, but he must restrain must not make any one wrong move, or he and Flippy would never know what might have been...

Flippy stared deep into Evil Flippy's eyes, desperate eyes, the kind of eyes in a deep turmoil, and he did not know it but his own eyes had a similar look to them. They were both fighting their own, seperate intrenal warfare against their own feelings, but they were only human.(*) Flippy hardly dared to breathe, for fear that he would make some sort of wrong move and the perfect moment would be instantly be shattered, revealing that this wasn't the way it seemed, Evil Flippy was just about to betray him and maybe kill him, and not ever have known that crazy little misunderstanding that Flippy had had.

Flippy almost wanted it to be a mistake. He did not want to be disappointed by what he could no longer deny that he had wanted for so long.. This couldn't possibly be... The look in Evil Flippy's eyes, he had to be mistaking it.... It couldn't, wouldn't, wasn't... And yet, reality continued to betray him. Evil Flippy had yet to show what Flippy thought of as his 'true colors', his expression had yet to change, his expression which was no longer desperation, but unveiled, untamed longing, lust.

Flippy reached up to fix Evil Flippy's hat, for some reason he could not identify, and accidentally brushed Evil Flippy's face, when niether of them suddenly could contain themselves, and they leaped at each others faces, somehow landing gracefully in a passionate kiss. Hands roamed over fur, murmurs of the euphoria at having the greatest desire _finally _fullfilled. Evil Flippy and Flippy allowed themselves to drop to the ground, Evil Flippy on top of Flippy, and Flippy sighed contentedly, relaxing and laying back, offering Evil Flippy to have total control, free will over Flippy's body, more than happy to let the power slip away, and Evil Flippy was more than happy to accept it. Flippy was still spinning from the sudden turn of events, forcing away every bit of logic in his head screaming that he had truly lost his mind. he had wanted this... so long.. It was only fair he should get to enjoy it, unmarred by meddling reason and logic. Evil Flippy's face was suddenly by his ear, and he whispered in that utterly male voice, that voice made Flippy shiver with lust, " Are you sure you want to?"

Flippy let out a moan and leaned his head back, murmuring, " I don't think I've ever wanted anything more." He then leaned up, and undid the first button on Evil Flippy's army shirt. Evil Flippy grinned a I'm-gonna-blow-your-mind grin and pulled Flippy's shirt up over his head and tossed it to the side. Flippy pulled Evil Flippy's ear down to him, and whispered in the soft, almost girlish voice he had that drove Evil Flippy wild, " Be gentle."

Evil Flippy looked down at him and kissed him above on the center of his forehead, an amazingly tender kiss, devoid of the usual aggression that Flippy was accustomed to from Evil Flippy. Flippy knew that his plea was not ignored, and that kiss was his reassurance. Evil Flippy positioned himself between Flippy's legs, straddling him. Flippy closed his eyes softly. He couldn't imagine a more perfect moment. Evil Flippy finally thrust his manhood into Flippy, and they simultaneously cried out. Although Evil Flippy certainly didn't act it, he and Flippy were both virgins. They both nearly climaxed at the first thrust, as any virgin will do, Flippy feeling that sudden fullness inside him, Evil Flippy shocked by the tightness of the area. They both needed it, wanted more. Evil Flippy thrust again, and again, harder and faster every time, and both their breaths came short and quick. Flippy dug his fingers into Evil Flippys fur, and Evil Flippy firmly cupped Evil Flippy's butt. Finally, when they were both so exhausted that they had to rest, and Flipy, after catching his breath, smiled wryly at Evil Flippy.

What passed between them was the instant understanding of long aquainted lovers. Evil Flippy flipped off Flippy's stomach and lay next to him, where Flippy pulled himself on top. But to Evil Flippy's surprise, Flippy did not postition himself the way Evil Flippy had. He had something else in mind. Evil Flippy waited with an anxious, barely contained excitment, and jumped slightly out of surprise when Flippy's hands moved down to Evil Flippy's legs. Flippy kissed Evil Flippy's bare body the entire way down to Evil Flippy's furry manhood. He took it in his hands, eliciting a gasp from Evil Flippy, and began to slowly work his fingers up and down the length of it, then his whole hands, slowly at first, then faster, and when Evil Flippy nearly came, Flippy stopped, and waited a moment, building it up. Lightly, he traced around the length with a finger, then bent over it, to Evil Flippy's curiousity. Then suddenly, the sensation of Flippy's TONGUE on him, barely, lightly, then finally taking him into his mouth. Afterward, he pulled himself back up to Evil Flippy's panting , sweaty face. He positioned himself, and Evil Flippy waiting bravely for his first time getting pounded, detrmined to be a man about it. As Flippy entered Evil Flippy's sacred ground, Evil Flippy made a half laugh, half shriek kind of noise as he came, digging fingers into the carpet , hips thrusting outward, and Flippy lost his balance and they lay together in a pile, gasping, sweating, trying to get breath. Flippy pulled himself over to Evil Flippy's side, laying so that they faced each other. Before either of them started to speak, they caught the others eye and were both transfixed, unable to move, speak, or even think about being reserved or making themselves invulnerable, breaking the moment and pretending it never happened, the way good men do. They were totally naked, in the sense that they were baring everything in their eyes that should be hidden, laying it out for the other to see, size up, and discard at will. They

Suddenly, something did brake the moment, but neither Flippy nor Evil Flippy was the culprit - It was a police siren. And it was drawing closer.

Evil Flippy jumped up in horror, Flippy hot on his heels. They rushed to the window, and indeed a group of cop cars were closing in on the house.

" Shit, oh shit, oh shit oh _fuck_!" Evil Flippy moaned, looking around frantically, as if to find a button to fix it.

Flippy looked at him, questioning and fearful. "What's happening? My God, what is happening here? Are they looking for us? Or, I guess... me?

Evil Flippy looked at him with a kind of pained regret, and Flippy knew that they were indeed looking for him. He resigned himself to it - after all, it was his fingerprintson Lumpy, his blood-covered hands that had dropped the blade, his fault. In all technicalities of the law, he was utterly, obviously culpable, but Evil Flippy was the one who had done the deed. Flippy reached over, squeezed Evil Flippy's hand, and started to head to the door.

"Are you insane?!" Evil Flippy cried, seeing Flippy's intentions, and tackled him before he reached the door to the bedroom. They landed on the floor, Flippy gazing up dazedly at Evil Flippy, startled by the sudden outburst, but Evil Flippy's stolid gaze did not waver.

Evil Flippy half whispered, half growled, urgently, " I am _not_ going to let you go out there!"

" It will be easier if I give myself up!"

"You aren't going because.. because I am!"

Flippy finally realized Evil Flippy's devotion - he wasn't letting Flippy take the rap for his own actions.

" You won't last in jail, and besides, I-" Flippy began.

Flippy was cut off by Evil Flippy, crying, " Oh, I'm not cut out for prison life? You think you are? You're too submissive, too trusting, they'll take turns raping you, taking advantage, beating you, those gaurds can't be trusted to help you, they'll watch and laugh and probably join in!" He finished bitterly.

"You aren't going there." Flippy said with a somehow insincere stolidity.

"You aren't going alone!" Evil Flippy cried defiantly," If you go, I'm going with you!"

The two stared off obstinately, then each, seemingly independently, recalled their old battles, the situation an exact copy of the old intense, anxious moments, both awaiting warily for the other's first move, and both autonomously burst into waves of laughter. The cops closing in, their options narrowing, the situation seeming hopeless to any sane mind, the two held clutched each other, gales of laughter exploding out of lungs barely adequate to hold such strong fits of roaring laughter. They finally seemed to get themselves under control, and looked unashamedly into each other's eyes. We aren't going to jail, not today, not tomorrow, not the next day, their expressions said, and they smiled as they prepared for their own war, a war no normal, sound man would wage, the kind that Flippy and Evil Flippy had thrived on for years in the military, basking in the simplicity, the natural primitiveness, perfectly nonsoilable unpretentiousness of simple bloodshed, animalistic and wild. This was their nativity, their habitat, the niche in which they could always click back into so naturally it was almost frightening. They each pulled out a weapon, Flippy a grenade, Evil Flippy his trustworthy bowie knife, and began what they were truly made for - Being together, doing what they loved, and yes, they did love it, no matter how much they denied it, even to themselves. Flippy as well as Evil Flippy. But they would not deny it to the other, they would not deny the truth to one another - they would deny _no_ truth to each other. Evil Flippy and Flippy were the two sides of a one of a kind coin - They both knew this. And as footsteps neared, from guntoting, baton bearing men, trained in fighting, Flippy and his counterpart, the Bonnie Parker to his Clyde Barrow, knew they would have a sure victory - a hard won victory, no doubt, there were plenty of men, but the only true, equal match either of them had stood right beside them, and they were happy to have new pray, to find delight in the kill, that finality, and for the first time... There was someone to share it with, and that was enough to satisfy them. The door creaked open, and Flippy and Evil Flippy were content to wait and see whatever awaited them next in their crazy, constantly changing world....

_**The End**_

_**"But one thing's for certain, when it comes my time  
I'll leave this old world with a satisfied mind  
I'll leave this old world with a satisfied mind"**_  
_**- Jeff Buckley**_

**Well, you have waited been through all this with Flippy and Evil Flippy on their journey to watch the development of their emotional maturity as... Oh let's just face it - Most of you wanted some hot lemon yaoi bear on bear action. XD Well I hope I didn't disapoint - being both a girl and a virgin it was mostly guesswork, but you know, I have read my share of hot yaoi lemon (What, me? No, never! XD) but it is still obviously not the same thing as, uhhhh.... experience. Anyhoo, I couldn't imagine of a better than Flippy & Evil Flippy going on a killing spree together, and on cops, no less. If there is enough complaining, maybe you can make me write a sequel, you know, maybe one more focused on them having problems and dealing with them thoughout the span of their relationship... ;D**

_**(*) I do know that they are NOT human, but the phrase fits so well.... Just, for the fanfic's sake, humor me. :)**_


End file.
